Phoenix Fire: Flight
by Morra Renae
Summary: 'As he looked into Phoenix's eyes, he saw a blazing fire residing inside. But when he looked deeper, he noticed that the spark hid not only pain, but grief and anger as well. "I wonder if I looked like that...when Kyoko died?" He murmured.'


Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, but I do own (partially) the idea. I Love Kyo!

**Phoenix Fire**

_Prologue_

A dark shadow flitted over the Tokyo skyline. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, the figure paused as it came to its destination. It stood gracefully, its black leather bodysuit and mask glinting fiercely in the moonlight.

A soft sigh could be heard as its arm swiftly snaked around its waist to rest at a small pack at the small of their back. The other hand reached up to its temple and gripped the edge of the mask, removing it in one quick movement. Soft brown hair floated down to the the figure's back; the mask revealing a petite and feminine face. Her eyes, however, glowed with a quiet ferocity.

Her hand still searching, it finally came upon a pair of binoculars. Although she had been trained since childhood, with her eyes rivaling those of a hawk's, it was still inhumanly possible to see such a great distance that was required of her in this particular mission.

She raised them to her face slowly, searching for the building of the target in question. There it was. Surrounded by several other skyscrapers, the one she had been looking for surpassed all others. It was the tallest building in the city, its black tinted windows reflecting the colorful lights of Tokyo. Now only to find her target. According to the brief, he had a habit of staying late in his office, no doubt due to the lack of family at home to welcome him. She felt a flash of pity, but quickly dispelled it. She had no use for pity, in fact, she had no use for anything. Nothing, except for the thrill of the chase and the following triumph.

After all, she had had no true childhood to account for. He, however, had at least had a short one, before his mother died, and his father grew to despise him. At least he had known his parents before they died. She didn't even know her parents' names. She brooded over this thought for a few more seconds before promptly shaking her head. She was on a job, she had no time for unnecessary emotions. She had no need for them either. Not in this line of work.

Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction as she spied the unruly mop of orange hair belonging to her prey. He was typing quite fast on his laptop. It looked to be of American make, she whistled softly. At least he wasn't hurting for cash, she thought. This would make the job even more enjoyable when he would first find thousands of dollars missing from his bank account. Next came the death threats. And finally, The Hunt…her favorite part. She laughed silently, already beginning to enjoy this job.

She turned to leave, but not before sneaking one last glance at the tinted window. The man was staring out of the window, straight at her. She stiffened, as she had been taught, and waited for his gaze to slowly return to his work. She stared back, hoping to deter him from looking further than he needed to.

She recalled a moment with Akito when she had stared too long into her eyes. Akito had grown angry, taking the staring as a sign of resistance. She winced, remembering how the woman had beat her unconscious, until one of her bodyguards had to restrain Akito for fear of killing her greatest weapon. Yes, that was how Akito referred to her. As a weapon, a monster, an outcast, always in that harsh tone that had her shaking in fear. Then Akito, with her sickly sweet words, would yank her by the hair, whispering about how, no matter how monstrous she was, she would know that no one but Akito would accept her for who she was. And she listened. Because Akito was all she had left.

She sighed in relief as his fingers once again fluttered over the keyboard. Returning the binoculars to her pouch, she jumped off the building she had been spying on, and raced over the roofs. She loved this time of night, where it seemed like she was the only one around. Ignoring the honking of cars down below, she raised her hands behind her, and increased her pace. Akito would not like it if she was late.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing her twin katanas strapped to her back. They always reminded her of a pair of wings, that belonged to her and no one else. It didn't matter that Akito always found a way to control her with them. When she was alone like this, she knew they were hers alone, whether or not they were a constant reminder of the hell she had been through, and the hell she had brought upon others, only slightly less innocent than herself, but no more deserving.

The wind whipping in her face, she flew over building after building, keeping to the shadows. She always felt like a bird when she did this, her black wings behind her, along with her gruesome past.

She wondered, as she neared Akito's home, if this was what freedom felt like.


End file.
